Saturday Detention
by lionslexicon
Summary: Marceline Abadeer strikes fear into the hearts of the other students on a regular basis, pressing their psychological buttons just for kicks and mowing down their self-esteem with a flick of her tongue. Bonnie Bubblegum, an overachieving lacrosse player, was the one girl that Marcie just couldn't crack. Tensions fly high when they get sentenced to Saturday detention together.
1. Hallway Struggles

"Shiiiit…." I hissed under my breath, hustling down the hallway at a stilted speedwalking pace. I raised my watch up to face level. Two minutes left. Only two minutes left, and I still had two more hallways and an elevator ride to go. I weighed my options.

I could put on my "grrr" face, hike up my jeans, and step on it, running down the halls and taking the stairs instead of waiting for an elevator. But did I really want to be the kid that runs all the way to class?

I do sort of have a reputation to uphold, and running down the hall like a doof wouldn't do much to further that aim. It's hard to keep people thinking you're a badass when you lose your chill enough to _run_ somewhere.

But another tardy on my record and I would really be screwed. I'm positive that my bio teacher would give me a Saturday detention for it, and I have shit to do on the weekend.

"Fuck it," I said, securing my backpack tightly on my shoulders. I ran like there was no tomorrow. My Saturday was in tow here. It was worth looking like a total idiot. I'd do anything to get out of sitting in that boring room all day with nothing to do but tear my own hair out and make friendship bracelets with it. I'd had more Saturday detentions than I could count since moving here, and I wasn't going to go down again for something as dumb as being late to class.

But as I rounded a corner on the second hallway, I stopped short. Bonnibel Bubblegum, overachiever extraordinaire and the protagonist to my antagonist, was leaning up against a locker, looking at me over the shoulder of one of her lacrosse buddies. Her face was a mix of confusion and disgust. Losing my cool in front of the general population wasn't that big of a deal, but in front of her? It wasn't an option.

I smoothed my shirt, looked down at the floor, and walked at a casual strut down the hall. I would normally love the opportunity to mess with Bonnie, but my poor Saturday was in desperate need of saving. I tried to ignore them, strutting as quickly as possible to my next class. Looking back on it, that probably seemed dumber than just running.

Bonnie grabbed my arm, jerking me to a halt. "Why were you running?" Bonnie asked, her brow furrowed. I couldn't tell if she was genuinely concerned for my well-being or just being a nosy ass. I went with the latter.

I turned to Bonnie, mustering up my most impudent, fake-genuine smile. "I just couldn't wait any longer to see you, Bonnibel. Had to put it in high gear and follow the trail of the ground you walked on so I could worship it adequately. Honestly, had I gone one more second without being in your glorious presence I think I would have died." I pressed my hand to the middle of my chest, mimicking a Southern belle about to swoon from the heat.

I glanced up at the girls to observe their reactions. Bonnie's perpetual calm was hard to crack, but when it did, I reveled in the fact that it was me who cracked it. It proved that no one's that perfectly placid all the time, and no one can keep their image together forever. No one but me.

But Bonnie, who usually rebutted me without missing a beat, looked seriously upset this time. I could tell that something was off. I hadn't hit an emotional raw spot or anything. I was just getting warmed up. But her chin was wobbling in a weird way, and dimpled in the middle. Bonnie's chin never wobbled like that before. It was strange to see her like that.

I should have felt triumphant that I fucked her up that easily, but it felt wrong to me. I didn't quite know what to make of it. She opened her mouth to speak, but her friend cut her off.

"That doesn't even make any sense," said Bonnie's friend. "I mean, I know you're super desperate and all, but Bonnie's not even that great." Bonnie shot her friend a look that said "thanks a lot". I faced the girl, pulling myself up to my full height, which was a good few inches above both Bonnie and her friend.

"Did anyone ask you, C average? You know, report cards come out this week. Better make sure that Daddy doesn't find out or else you'll be hauling ass this summer to go work on your cousin's farm in Idaho."

"Yeah, well, you don't even know that my cousin has a farm! And it's not even in Idaho!" Her hard little face knotted up, and she turned promptly on her heel and stomped away. I smiled, crossing my arms and enjoying the victory, ignoring the incompetence of the opponent.

"You were saying?" I said to Bonnie. She huffed, turning to close her locker door. She walked down the hall without a word. She was blowing me off. That was something I couldn't let go, class or no class. It would mean that she had won.

I hurried to catch up with Bonnie. "I have class," she said, picking up her pace and pulling her backpack straps up over her shoulders. She turned her head away from me to look at the floor, her short strides struggling to outpace my long ones.

"No you don't, or else you would be there by now. You're never, ever late." I turned around, walking backwards so I could face her. "I bet you haven't gotten a detention in your entire life, have you? Not even once. That's a shame. It's a real experience, let me tell you."

Bonnie was still looking at the floor, her long pink hair falling across her face. Her steps were hurried, and she pulled her arms in close to her chest. Was something seriously wrong? I wasn't quite sure how to handle an emotional Bonnie. I decided to keep pushing her, just to see what would happen. Probably not the best idea, but I thought she could handle it.

"See, in detention, you don't get to leave all day. Seven hours of no communication with the outside world does crazy things to a girl. Gives her weird mental problems. Hallucinations. Homicidal thoughts. Illusions of grandiosity. Oh wait, you already have that last one, don't you? My bad. Actually, maybe you'd do pretty well in detention. Might want to consider stopping by this Saturday."

Bonnie stopped abruptly. When she looked up at me, I could see tears welling up in her eyes. _Shit,_ I thought, my mouth hanging open. Whatever I did, it had seriously fucked her up. I had cracked Bonnie, all right, but it was an empty victory.

"Dammit, Marceline! Will you shut up for once in your life! I get that you tease me or whatever and it's a fun game, but I have a lot of stuff going on and I absolutely do not need for you to make it worse right now. So please just leave me in peace." Her voice broke halfway through the last sentence, and a tear squeezed out of her eye. She balled up a fist and wiped it away.

She walked around the corner, stranding me alone in the middle of the unforgiving white hallway. I checked my watch again. Class started five minutes ago.

Damn. Another detention for me.


	2. Walk of Shame

I shuffled down the P.E. hallway, past the locker rooms and the coach's offices, glancing at my reflection in the trophy cases in the walls. My pink face was void of all emotion. I took in the grey concrete walls and listened to the sound of my shoes hitting the floor with a strange kind of detachment. All of the rooms around me were empty, and I felt like a trespasser on sacred ground. The white tile floors were an arctic expanse, isolating me from every other living being. I couldn't be here. I shouldn't be here. Hot prickles of shame crept up the back of my neck. It was surreal, to think that it would ever be me doing the walk of shame to the room at the end of the hall.

As many afternoons as I'd spent on this hallway at lacrosse practice, I'd never been in this room before. I turned the doorknob, pulling open the heavy door gently, to avoid slamming it against the wall. I walked in, preparing myself for the worst. The detention room was small, with twenty or so old fake-wooden desks lined up in neat rows. They all faced a large teacher's desk, with one of its front corners broken off and a small, whirring fan on the other. The grey carpet seemed like it absorbed all sound in the room. The ceiling was low, and the room has a certain sleepy, static feel to it, like nothing had ever happened there and nothing ever would.

It's not that bad, I told myself. I can handle this. I walked in and took a seat at the very front desk, in the middle of the row. I clasped my hands and set them on the desk, looking forward. I waited for a few moments in silence. The clock's hands seemed like they didn't quite seem to care whether they moved one way or another, or if they moved at all. Why was no one there? Was I at the wrong place? I walked back outside and checked the number plate outside of the door. Room 114: Detention.


End file.
